The Vampire Diaries: Thunder & Lightning
by VinEsquire
Summary: Damon Salvatore sees what his life would be like as a non-vampire in Stefan & Elena's doppelganger alternate reality caused by Traveler leader Markos. The alternate version of Damon, a CIA superspy, goes on an adventure with best bud Enzo. Later, Damon must save Elena from the evil Dr. Max Westfield.
1. Chapters 1 & 2

The Vampire Diaries: Thunder & Lightning

By Vincent Chia

Originally published May 24, 2014

* * *

Chapter One

"It isn't true," said Markos.

Damon looked at Markos silently.

"The doppelganger prophecy isn't real. I made it up centuries ago," said Markos.

Markos could tell he sparked Damon's curiosity.

"Would you like to see what your brother was seeing?"

Damon shook his head.

"I'd rather not know."

Markos sensed that Damon's curiosity wasn't about his brother at all, but about the girl.

"I'll satisfy your curiosity," said Markos.

"I thought you ended the visions," said Damon.

"Their visions ended, but I can still let you see the world they created for themselves."

"What would stop you from killing me once I was in a trance?"

"My dear boy," said Markos. "If I had wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead."

Markos saw Damon in silent thought for a few seconds.

"Who would I experience the visions as? Stefan? Or Elena?"

"You would be… you," said Markos

In a flash, Damon was in the driver's seat of his blue convertible. He almost ran a red light, but stopped just in time. Although he had some control of his body, he was more of a spectator than anything. It felt like he was watching a movie.

* * *

Damon pulled his blue convertible into the driveway and parked it next to Elena's SUV. It was when he turned off the ignition that he noticed a passenger sitting next to him.

The passenger grabbed her small purse and pulled open the passenger side door.

"Something wrong?" she asked, as Damon seemed to be spacing out.

"Everything's good, Kitty-kat," Damon heard himself say.

Damon recalled that was one of the nicknames he gave to Katherine Pierce. So in the doppelganger visions, he was with Katherine? He didn't think she resembled Katherine or Elena, but then again, it was dark and he only caught a quick glimpse of her. Damon opened his door and stepped onto the driveway.

Damon knew that in Stefan and Elena's doppelganger visions, neither of them were vampires. He presumed he wasn't one as well. Damon often wondered what life might be like if he were a regular ol' human being. Boring? He hoped not.

Elena greeted Damon at the front door and welcomed his new girlfriend to her home.

"So you're Damon's new squeeze," said a smiling Elena. She rarely met Damon's girlfriends, but she knew he was fairly successful with the opposite sex.

"It's great to meet you," said Damon's girlfriend. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh," said Damon as he realized he hadn't yet introduced his new girlfriend. "Elena, this is Katie McPherson. Katie, this is my brother's wife Elena."

Elena and Katie hugged briefly and then the three of them made their way toward the living room.

"It's little Gilbert," said Damon as he caught a glimpse of Jeremy sitting in the living room. Although Damon and Jeremy weren't close, they had some things in common. Jeremy had been a little bit of an outsider in high school, similar to Damon. Both Stefan and Elena had been popular in high school. Stefan played wide receiver on the football team while Elena was a cheerleader and honor student.

"This is Bonnie," said Jeremy as he introduced his new girlfriend. Bonnie was short and petite. She was also one of the few African-Americans in the whole town of Mystic Landing.

"Nice to meet you," said Damon. The two of them smiled and shook hands.

Damon then introduced Katie to Jeremy and Bonnie.

Bonnie was relatively new to town. She grew up the New England town of Salem.

"Ah, yes. Famous for their witches," commented Damon.

"Our football team was called the warlocks," said Bonnie without skipping a beat. She had been a cheerleader in high school, which gave her something in common with Elena.

"Stefan is in the dining room, setting everything up," said Elena.

Damon made his way to the dining room as Elena, Katie, Jeremy and Bonnie sat down in the living room and continued to chat.

"How are the kids?" asked Damon.

"They're doing well. Asleep upstairs," said Stefan. "They really love the toy robot you gave them last time."

Damon enjoyed being an uncle. Among other things, it gave him a legitimate reason to be browsing through the toy aisles.

"How are you and Elena? Still considering relocating to NoVa?"

Stefan shook his head. "Only thought about that briefly. But we love it here."

Damon and Stefan were born in the tiny town of Mystic Landing. The town was on the banks of the Potomac River close to Chesapeake Bay. Northern Virginia and DC were about an hour away and the Salvatore brothers often found themselves in the DC area. Damon especially.

Stefan and Elena had a wonderful dinner with their siblings and their siblings' significant others. Everyone loved the main course that Stefan prepared. To their surprise, Elena made the dessert. She usually wasn't one for cooking or baking, but she recently started getting the hang of making sweet snacks. She first started getting into it so she could make snacks for her kids without having to buy the ones at the market which were loaded with preservatives and other unhealthy junk. Hers were still unhealthy, but less so.

After dinner, everyone remained in the dining room and continued chatting. Bonnie had been the first one to yawn, which led some others to check the time. The gang decided to call it a night. Elena suggested that they call do dinner again sometime, perhaps next week.

Stefan and Elena walked everyone to the front door.

Jeremy and Bonnie left together and drove off as Damon pressed his remote to unlock his car. Stefan had walked him outside.

"It was good to see you, brother," said Stefan.

"Likewise."

Damon and Stefan were close, but didn't always hang out. Damon's job often kept him out of the area.

"Don't be a stranger," said Stefan.

"Yep."

Stefan walked back into his home and made his way to the kitchen as Damon stepped into his car and started the ignition. Officially, Damon was a mid-level bureaucrat at the federal Customs agency. Stefan suspected Damon's job was slightly more dangerous than he had led on.

"I'm glad you now get along with Damon," said Stefan to Elena. They were both doing the dishes. Elena was washing and Stefan was drying them.

"Your brother's a good guy. It's good to see him happy," said Elena.

"He is decidedly not a 'good guy.' I still remember the days when you'd constantly call him an ass."

"Are you sure that wasn't just me complimenting his derriere?" joked Elena.

Stefan smiled. He walked behind his wife and hugged her around the waist.

* * *

Dinner with Stefan and Elena ended a little after 10pm. Damon had plans to meet with one of his old army buddies at a nearby bar around midnight.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you home?" asked Damon. He had planned to stop by the bar after dropping her off.

"I want to meet your friend," said Katie.

"First my brother and his family, now my old army buddy," said Damon. When Damon was stopped at a red light, he texted his friend to say he would be early. Luckily, Damon's friend was already there eating a late dinner.

Damon parked his convertible on one of the streets in the picturesque town. He and Katie walked to the Mist Bar & Grill. As they entered, Damon saw Enzo sitting at a table near the corner.

Damon and Enzo hadn't seen each other in over a month. In fact, Enzo had been on a sailboat with his girlfriend Maggie for the past three weeks sailing near Cape Horn. Enzo got up from his chair when he saw his best friend arrive. Damon and Enzo briefly bro hugged, a combination of a handshake and a half hug.

Damon then introduced Katie.

"Nice to meet you," said Katie as she shook Enzo's hand.

The three of them chatted for a little while. Soon, Damon couldn't help but be distracted by two young ladies who were clearly drunk and singing quite loudly to each other.

" _You_ are the thunder and _I_ am the lightning," the two young ladies belted out simultaneously.

At first, Damon was slightly annoyed. But, he soon found the scene quite amusing when the two ladies started debating whether one of the words had two syllables or three.

"No, no, Penny," said the Asian girl to the strawberry blonde. "It's light-ning, not light-en-ing." The blonde had pronounced lightning in a way that sounded like brightening or whitening.

Damon actually chuckled.

"I remember when we used to get drunk and have fun," said Enzo.

"I bet tomfoolery comes naturally to you both," said Katie. "Drunken singing is always hilarious."

"In the month and a half that you've known me, what in our history makes you think I'd ever sing out loud?" asked Damon.

"Damon has always been more the mean snarky type. The type that would make fun of people no matter what they do, including singing," said Enzo. "He relishes being a jerk."

"I knew you were trouble when you walked in," sang Katie.

"Enzo chuckled. "Damon isn't a big fan of the swiftees."

"I know," said Katie. "That's what makes singing her songs so _fun_."

"If we break-up, I will remember these little annoyances," said Damon.

"Oh, come on. I can feel it. We'll go the distance. When we met, sparks flew instantly," said Katie as she lightly tickled Damon's chest.

"How _did_ you guys meet?" asked a curious Enzo.

Damon and Katie met in D.C. They were riding on the blue line when all the subway trains were halted due to an accident at one of the stations. After 15 minutes, Damon became visibly annoyed. Katie had been standing near him and made a joke to cheer him up. Damon was amused and they hit it off. Strangely enough, Katie was also only visiting D.C. She lived in a town about thirty minutes from Mystic Landing.

Damon was glad that Katie and Enzo seemed to get along well. In fact, Katie seemed to get along with everyone. It was perhaps still too early to tell, but Damon was optimistic that Katie would fit in with his friends and family. The three of them chatted for a while longer and went through a few drinks.

Damon's smartphone vibrated. He took a glance at the screen. The text he received appeared to be about a new sci-fi movie. It was actually a secret code notifying Damon that he was being activated for a mission. It had been a few months since he had an overseas assignment. He looked over at Enzo.

"What's up?" asked Enzo. A second later, Enzo also got a text. Damon and Enzo were often paired together on covert missions. Sometimes in a team of 4, but usually just the two of them. They were a very efficient team.

Damon turned to Katie.

"It looks like I'll be out of town for a little bit," said Damon. He was heading out tomorrow morning.

"Sneaking away to be with one of your other girlfriends?" asked Katie.

Damon shrugged his shoulders and had a mischievous smirk on his face. Katie pinched him in the arm.

* * *

Chapter Two

Damon and Enzo arrived at the building in Arlington, Virginia.

They stopped by the security desk in the lobby.

"We're here to visit Raptor Robotics," said Damon.

"Sure," said the security guard. "Take one of the elevators in the right elevator bank and head up to the 18th floor."

"Thanks."

Damon and Enzo stepped inside one of the elevators.

"That was a little easier than I thought," said Damon after the elevator doors closed and the elevator started ascending.

"You shouldn't say stuff like that," said Enzo. "Don't say stuff like that."

The elevator doors opened on the 18th floor to a reception area. It looked like a typical corporate office.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" asked the receptionist.

"Yea, we're here to see Joseph Anderson. He should be expecting us."

"Let me call his secretary," said the receptionist as she picked up her phone.

The receptionist appeared to be waiting for someone to pick up the phone on the other end. As she was waiting, she picked up a small stuffed animal sheep that had been sitting on her desk.

"Do you suppose robots dream of electric sheep?" asked the receptionist, seemingly just thinking out loud. She was looking into the face of the stuffed sheep in her hands.

"Only the bah-d robots," Damon said reluctantly. He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the answer his superiors devised to the challenge question.

The receptionist smiled and almost chuckled out loud.

"You boys from Langley?" she asked.

"Special Agent Salvatore and not-so-special Agent Lorenzo," said Damon.

" _Secret_ agents," whispered Enzo to the receptionist.

Now it was the receptionist who resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. Although, she found both Damon and Enzo to be attractive, so she could forgive the behavior.

"Commander Anderson is waiting for you," said the receptionist. She pressed a button on her phone and a buzzing sound indicated that the bulletproof glass doors to the hallway beyond had unlocked.

"Thanks," said Damon as he pushed open the door.

"All the way down the hall, to your left," said the receptionist.

As Enzo walked through the doorway, he gave a casual salute to the receptionist.

* * *

"Commander Anderson?" asked Damon as he knocked on the wooden door that had been left ajar.

"Please, come in," said Anderson as he waved them in.

Damon and Enzo walked into the spacious office. Enzo closed the door behind him.

"CIA?" asked Anderson.

"Something like that," said Damon.

Damon and Enzo sat down in a couple of chairs across from Anderson.

"You know, I have one of the highest security clearances on God's green Earth," said Anderson. "Yet, I know next to nothing about you two characters."

Anderson opened two file folders.

"Special Agent Damon G. Salvatore. Distinguished Intelligence Service Cross; Purple Spear," said Anderson as he read through the first file. "Agent Christopher Lorenzo. Meritorious Duty Citation."

Anderson then showed Damon and Enzo the two files he had been reading. Almost everything had been blacked out by various intelligence agencies. Even their birthdays and gender. The only things left were their service photos, their ranks, and their decorations.

"The only thing you need to know, Anderson, is that we'll get the job done," said Damon.

"I expect nothing less."

Damon and Lorenzo handed their heavily redacted files back to Anderson.

"Let's move on to the mission briefing," said Anderson.

"Let's," replied Damon.

Anderson gave each of them a packet that included various documents and glossy photos. Anderson explained the mission while Damon and Enzo skimmed through the documents. They were being sent somewhere in Eastern Europe. A handful of ex-KGB officers and some younger compatriots have been trekking through some of the former Soviet Republics and stirring up some minor chaos. Damon and Enzo were tasked to put an end to the meddling. Normally, the Pentagon wouldn't care too much about the minor inconvenience. However, the Navy has a base in the projected path of where the group is moving and would prefer to prevent the surrounding neighborhoods from being destabilized.

Anderson spun his computer screen around so that Damon and Enzo could see a brief video. It showed a group of about a dozen men and women standing and chanting.

"What are they saying?" asked Damon.

"We haven't been quite able to translate it yet, but it seems derive from Latin."

"Latin?" asked Damon. "You would think Russian or something Eastern European."

"That would have been my first guess, but it's definitely not Russian. The linguists are working on it."

"Is this some type of militia group?"

"They haven't popped up on any previous intel reports. We're calling them the Brotherhood of Travelers. They've been recruiting and their followers now number in the low hundreds. Your mission is to infiltrate the group, find their senior leaders, and get them to end whatever it is they are doing. Try to limit collateral damage to the local recruits. We're only concerned with the outside elements."

"Deadly force is authorized, I presume?" asked Damon. He knew it would be, but he took some joy in hearing it said.

"Yes. Use whatever method you deem appropriate to achieve the objective."

"I guess I could always use my charm and talk them out of it. Or maybe pouches full of gold coins. But I've found that murder is often the best solution," said Damon. Anderson found him a little too enthused by the prospect. But then again, Damon was a trained assassin. It was why he and Enzo were recommended to Anderson in the first place.

"Murder is a strong word, Salvatore. But, do what you gotta do."

"Nobody calls me Salvatore. Call me Damon."

"Actually, we'll make up some callsigns for you both. Your former operative callsigns have been redacted from your illustrious files. I'm guessing you must've been something like 'Demon' as a play on your name."

Damon shook his head. That nickname would've been too cliche.

"Let's just go with Traveler Killer One and Traveler Killer Two. I'll be One," said Damon.

"We'll put that in the 'maybe' pile," said Anderson sarcastically.

"I know," said Enzo. It was the first time Enzo spoke during the meeting and Anderson was a little surprised by Enzo's accent.

"How 'bout Thunder and Lightning?" asked Enzo.

"Thunder and Lightning?" repeated Anderson quizzically.

"He's the thunder; I'm the lightning," said an amused Enzo. Damon was less amused.

Anderson looked at Enzo for a few seconds.

"Fine, we'll go with that," said Anderson. Damon was tempted to punch Enzo in the face.

Anderson's phone rang. He hesitated in picking it up before seeing the caller ID.

"Please, excuse me," said Anderson as he pressed a button for the call to connect through. He spoke with someone for a few minutes. Damon couldn't make out the entire conversation, but he gathered that someone was giving Anderson a status update. Once Anderson hung up his phone, he turned his attention back to Damon and Enzo.

"You'll both be flying out at 1800 hours tonight. Langley is arranging transport. Please tell your superiors that the Pentagon appreciates their help on this."

Damon nodded an acknowledgement.

"Lastly, just one of these formalities. If either of you get caught behind enemy lines, the United States government disavows any connection to you," said Anderson.

"The typical dick move," said an annoyed Damon.

"This isn't your first rodeo, cowboy," said Anderson. "You know the drill. Anyway, from the scuttlebutt I've heard about you two, I'm confident you will have no trouble avoiding capture."

"And what scuttlebutt might that be?" asked Enzo.

"I have a friend who is an army major. When I was poking around for information on you two, he mentioned that you were both attached to the 160th SOAR Regiment for some time. The Nightstalkers. Sound about right?"

"Yea, the Nightstalkers," said Damon.

"Well, once a Nightstalker, always a Nightstalker. Anyway, your 4-man squad made a strong impression. There were rumors of a CIA secret experiment called Serum 12144. Increased your strength, speed, and agility. Stamina and endurance off the charts. Of course, then the rumors went into fantasyland with abilities to fly, control the weather, x-ray vision, super-hearing, that sort of garbage. However, I have no doubt that you both are capable covert operatives."

"We were just trained very well," said Damon. "No super-serum in these veins."

"Well, if it's true, please fly over to Europe yourselves and save our jet fuel. We're pinching pennies. Budget cuts n' all," joked Anderson.

Damon and Enzo were dismissed. They walked out of the office and headed toward the elevator. Enzo flirted with the receptionist one last time, even though he already had a girlfriend.

* * *

Damon and Enzo were driven to Pax Air Station. There, they were taken to a medium-sized private jet that would take them across the Atlantic.

"Sirs," said a Navy lieutenant commander who escorted them from the base's gate. "Your operational gear is stowed onboard. Happy hunting."

Damon and Enzo climbed aboard. They expected at least a few others there, but there was nobody. The cabin was quite lavish, typical of a corporate jet. The cockpit was fairly comfortable as well. Damon wondered where the pilots were.

A few minutes later, a young lady climbed into the plane.

"Which one of yous is my co-pilot?" she asked.

"We're your passengers," said Damon.

The pilot flipped through some of the pages on her clipboard.

"Sorry, sir," said the pilot. "There must've been some mix-up. We were told that both of you knew how to fly."

"Give me that!" said Damon as he yanked the clipboard out of the pilot's hand.

Damon read through the orders the pilot had been given. It stated that two civilian intelligence operatives, codenames Thunder and Lightning, would be flown out at 1800 hours. Both civilians were flight qualified for jets and helicopters.

Damon was a little pissed. It wasn't the first time a bureaucrat screwed up the paperwork, but this was one of the more serious oversights. Damon stepped out of the plane and flagged down the navy officer who had brought him to the plane. The officer climbed into the cabin as quickly as he could. He was a little surprised when Damon explained the situation.

"Commander, do you have any pilots on base who can take us? This is a matter of national security," said Enzo.

"Sir, I'm sorry, we're all out," said the navy officer. "My pilots are all either on training exercises or on their mandatory rest period. Besides, even if I had any pilots, I would have to get clearance from the Admiral. This was supposed to be an all-civilian operation. Civilian plane; civilian intel operatives; civilian pilots. I don't think I'll get permission for any uniformed personnel to take part in this."

The female pilot thought about it for half a minute and then decided things would be okay. She could fly the plane herself. Many planes only had one pilot.

"This plane practically flies herself," she said.

"All the same, I'd feel better if you had someone in the seat next to you," said the navy commander. He flipped through his own clipboard.

"You're the senior agent on this op?" the commander asked Damon.

"I guess," replied Damon.

"Good," said the commander. "You get to sit in the flight deck."

* * *

Damon looked out the cockpit windshield. It was drizzling a little bit and he hoped the weather wouldn't be too much of a problem. He started to buckle his seat belts.

"By the way, my name is Damon," he said as he reached out to shake the pilot's hand.

"No names, CIA boy," she said, a little annoyed.

"Okay," said Damon defensively. "What do I call you?"

"You can call me captain. You're the co-captain," she said matter-of-factly.

"If I'm a co-captain, doesn't that make you a co-captain too?" asked Damon, intent on annoying the young lady.

"Fine, I'm the captain, you're the first officer. Happy?"

"Very," said Damon with a smile.

The captain studied the flight plan for the fifth time and then handed the clipboard to Damon.

"Okay, first officer Thunder. This flight is designated Wombat six-zero. Before we take off, I'm going to read down this checklist. All you have to do is look at the instruments panel to your right and confirm that all the indicator lights are green. If any are yellow or red, let me know."

"Aye, aye, captain."

Damon took a quick look around the cockpit. There must've been a hundred indicators positioned all around him. He was glad that checklist on the page only had about a dozen bulletpoints.

* * *

"Wombat six-zero, this is Pax River Tower. You are clear to proceed to runway 3."

"Copy Tower, Wombat six-zero proceeding to runway 3," said the pilot.

The plane slowly pulled out of the hangar and made its way to the northeast end of runway 3.

"All right, Agent Thunder," said the pilot with a sly smile. "Let's run down the checklist."

"Good to go," said Damon.

"Navigation."

"Check."

"Hatches."

"Secured."

"Right engine."

"Check."

"Left engine."

"Check."

"Cabin pressure stable. Cockpit safe."

"Copy, I show same."

"Electronics."

"All green across the board."

The private jet sat at the end of the runway for a minute before the air traffic controller came back on the radio.

"Wombat six-zero, you are cleared for take off."

"Copy," said the pilot. "Go flight. Power to max."

At 1806 hours, Wombat six-zero roared down runway 3 and shot into the air.

"Tower, Wombat six-zero is airborne," said the pilot.

"Copy that. Have a safe flight."

* * *

A few hours into the flight, Damon wanted to stretch his legs. The plane was somewhere over the Atlantic and the rain had stopped.

"I'm going to the cabin for a few minutes. Is that okay?"

"Sure," said the pilot. "We're on autopilot right now, but I'll call you back up here if I need your help."

Damon walked back to the cabin where Enzo was relaxing with his feet up. Enzo was watching a basketball game on the widescreen high-def monitor.

"Who's up?" asked Damon.

"Wildcats by 5," said Enzo.

Damon sat down on the leather recliner across from Enzo. Some of the mission briefing documents were spread out across the coffee table in between the two of them.

"Should be an easy in-and-out," commented Damon.

"Looks like it," said Enzo. While Enzo and Damon knew that every mission was important, most of the CIA"s attention was focused further east where Russia recently mobilized over 40,000 soldiers to their border. Damon and Enzo were being sent to elsewhere.

Damon looked through a few of the photos.

"Looks like there are 30 of these Traveler guys at most," said Damon.

"Probably only about 10 core members. Take them out and the rest will crumble. We can probably ignore all the local recruits. None of them look to be armed at all," said Enzo.

The conversation soon diverted away from the mission at hand.

"So this new Katie girl, how serious?" asked Enzo.

"Who knows? She's a fun girl. We have a good time together."

Enzo knew that his best friend would rather be having a good time with one Elena Gilbert, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

"How are you and Maggie doing?" asked Damon.

"Everything's perfect."

"Tell her about what we do yet?"

"She has some idea."

The conversation then returned to the upcoming mission. There were a handful of armed women in the Traveler group. When Damon and Enzo were new recruits, they hesitated shooting women. That attitude shifted in short order. Nowadays, Damon and Enzo were equal opportunity assassins. After a few more minutes of conversation, Damon headed back up to the cockpit.

* * *

"I take it that you're not with the agency," said Damon. He had returned to the cockpit several minutes ago and felt like chatting.

"What makes you say that?" asked the pilot.

"Well, calling me 'CIA boy' earlier was pretty much a dead giveaway."

She hadn't realized she had done that until Damon mentioned it.

"Oh, yea. I'm with one of the civilian defense contractors," she said.

Damon didn't think he showed any reaction, but the pilot seemed to think he disapproved.

"A lot of the intel agencies outsource their operations," said the pilot.

"Yea, I know," said Damon. He himself was currently a part-time operative with a private defense group. He and Enzo started out as CIA operatives. They retired from the agency after serving 5 years. Damon thought he would just get himself a desk job, but it turns out that it's hard to live a normal life after serving in special ops. Damon missed the adrenaline rush.

* * *

The plane landed on the relatively empty airfield. Damon and Enzo disembarked with their gear.

"Good luck, Agent Thunder," said the pilot as she shook his hand. "Agent Lightning," she said as she nodded at Enzo.

"Thanks, captain," said Damon.

"Rocky," said the pilot. "The agency calls me Rocky."

"Like the boxer?" asked Damon.

"Or maybe the flying squirrel," said Enzo.

"Just Rocky," said the pilot.

"You gonna be here to pick us up?" asked Damon.

"It might be me or it might be another pilot. Depends on what the agency decides."

"It was nice knowin' ya, Rocky," said Damon.

Damon and Enzo walked off toward the jeep that was waiting for them on the tarmac.

In addition to the jeep, there was a geeky tech in eyeglasses and a white labcoat waiting for them. Once he saw Damon and Enzo disembark from their plane, he hopped out of the driver's seat and stood by the tailgate. He tossed Enzo the keys once they were several feet from the jeep. Damon and Enzo dumped their gear into the back of the jeep.

"Agents Thunder and Lightning?" asked the tech.

"Thunder," said Damon pointing to himself. "Lightning," he said while pointing at Enzo.

"I'm out of the agency's research division," said the tech. "I was at the Berlin office for a few days and retasked here to bring you this new toy."

The tech showed Damon a remote controlled flying drone about the size of his hand.

"This is the Clandestine Robotic Observer. C.R.O. for short. Here's the control device."

The device resembled a smartphone. Damon asked whether he could just program his own phone and not have to carry around an extra device.

"Sure," said the tech in an excited mood. Damon handed over his cell phone and the tech played around with it for 30 seconds. He touched his own phone to Damon's and wirelessly transferred the control program.

"Done," said the tech with a smile.

"Fantastic," said Damon. He tested out the control program and the crow flew through the air under Damon's command.

The tech then brought out two bottles of a dark red liquid.

"It's the agency's new energy drink. Designed by the geniuses at bio-performance solutions division. They call it Bloodfuel."

"What happened to the neon green stuff?" asked Damon. "I liked that stuff."

"That was soooo last year," said the tech. "This stuff is new and improved."

Damon took a few sips of it. The taste was satisfactory. He and Enzo pour about 2 liters each into their small hydration packs that they wore on their back. Many soldiers put plain water into their hydration packs, but it was important to have a mix of water and electrolytes.

Damon and Enzo hopped into the jeep and drove off, leaving the tech at the airfield.

* * *

"Three clicks out," said Enzo. Damon was driving the jeep as Enzo looked at his map. They were heading toward the last known location of the Travelers. It was a small hamlet with a long-ago shuttered car factory.

Damon soon parked the jeep on a hill just outside of town. It was a high enough elevation to have a good view of everything. Damon spent a minute or so looking through high-magnification binoculars. He then released his C.R.O. drone into the air to scout the town more thoroughly. The drone flew almost completely silent. Damon also made sure to fly it high enough in the air that it wouldn't be noticed by the villagers or would be mistaken for a bird.

Damon studied the video feed that the C.R.O. was beaming back to his smartphone.

"Okay, it looks like there are about twenty of them," said Damon. "I see 4 walking out and about in the streets, in 2 pairs of 2. There are two standing guard at the entrance to the park, and the remaining dozen or so are in the center of the park, standing in a circle."

"A circle?" asked Enzo.

"Yea, roughly."

Damon and Enzo formulated their plan of attack. They decided it would be a waste of time to try to go undercover and infiltrate the group. Easier to simply go on the offensive from the get-go. They would take out the pairs of wandering patrols first, take out the sentries at the park entrance, and then move away from the park. They would watch the remaining travelers and see if they split up into smaller groups. That would make it easier for Damon and Enzo to deal with. Splitting up is almost always a bad move. Your group will cover more ground, but the members of the group risk getting picked off one by one.

Damon and Enzo screwed silencers onto their pistols. From time to time, they liked to use sniper rifles and deal with their targets from afar. However, Damon and Enzo mostly enjoyed combat up close and personal.

As usual, Damon and Enzo struck with speedy efficiency. After seeing a pair of Travelers on patrol turn onto an empty street, Damon and Enzo nonchalantly walked up to pair. The Traveler patrol didn't seem to consider Damon and Enzo a threat. Too bad. Damon almost felt sorry to have to dispatch these two low-level followers who probably weren't dangerous. At least, not dangerous to America's national security. Alas, he had his orders.

Damon pulled out his pistol and quickly shot both Travelers in the head before either of them saw what was coming.

"The next two are mine," said Enzo.

They grabbed the rifles from the two Travelers and the walkie-talkie radio one of them was carrying. Damon methodically took apart the two rifles to prevent them from being found and used by any others. Damon took the two tiny firing pins from the rifles and put them in one of the many pockets of his combat cargo pants.

Damon and Enzo quickly left the scene to avoid being seen by any villagers who might soon pass by. The other pair of patrolling Travelers were currently on the other side of town. Though, it was a small town, and they might soon find their comrades dead.

Damon and Enzo decided to try to blend in at the local supermarket and wait until their next opportunity to strike. There was really only one supermarket in the small town. A couple of small convenience stores also existed, but Damon and Enzo wanted a place with potentially large crowds to mix into. The park would have been another option, but that was where the Travelers had decided to congregate. The shoppers in the market didn't seem to pay much mind to Damon or Enzo. Although it was small community and the locals basically knew each other, they presumed that Damon and Enzo were part of the traveling visitors that had recently arrived in town.

Damon was standing in front of the magazines section near the check-out lines for a clearer view of the front entrance and windows. He pretended to read through an entertainment magazine but was really looking out at the main street that went through the village. Eventually, the second Traveler patrol should be making its way down the street.

Enzo was in the first aid aisle pretending to browse through the antacids when Damon came to get him.

"The second patrol just passed by," said Damon. "Looks like they are heading east."

The two of them studied the map on Damon's smartphone to see what was in that general direction. In particular, they were looking for places away from the town square that would be relatively secluded where they could take out the patrol without onlookers.

As Damon and Enzo approached the second Traveler patrol, they were told in Russian to halt. This pair was a bit more suspicious than the first. Damon wasn't sure if these Travelers had found the dead bodies of the other patrol.

Damon halted, but looked at Enzo. Enzo gave Damon a look that meant to convey something like "I got this."

Enzo grabbed the rifle of the closest Traveler and yanked it right out of the woman's hands. He pulled out his own pistol and shot both Travelers in the chest two times. However, before she died, the first Traveler was able to press a "panic" button on her walkie which sent three beeps over to all the others. Damon was able to hear it on the walkie he had confiscated earlier.

"Well, there goes the element of surprise," said Damon.

Enzo shrugged. "We would have eventually had to draw them out anyway."

Damon repeated what he did earlier with the Travelers' rifles and added two more firing pins to his collection.

They broke into a nearby building and waited to see how the remaining Travelers would react to the alarm. There was an elderly couple in the residence. Although there was no sign that the couple would give away Damon's presence, Damon nevertheless shot the couple with tiny tranquilizer darts. They'd be out for at least three hours.

Soon, Damon and Enzo watched as two new Travelers ran down the street. The Travelers rushed to see if they could save their fallen comrades. One of them knelt down to feel for pulses while the second held his rifle up and scanned the surrounding area for threats. After determining that the two on the ground were dead, they radioed in the situation and awaited instructions.

A few minutes passed and back-up arrived. Damon's original plan wasn't working quite as hoped. Instead of splitting up and fanning out to search the area, the newcomers formed a tight group. There were now six of them.

Then, to Damon's slight annoyance, an additional eight arrived. It seemed that everyone from the park arrived to the scene in a concentrated force. A skinny man with short curly hair and light stubble on his face seemed to be in charge. Damon's hearing had been enhanced a little by serum 12144, but he was still too far away to hear exactly what was being said.

The skinny man seemed to give some instructions to the group. He then left with eight of his men, leaving five to investigate the situation further.

One of the females now appeared to be in charge. After a minute of thinking, she ordered two of her men to knock on doors of the buildings near the area. It appeared that she was looking for either the perpetrators or at least some witnesses. Soon, a local was dragged out of his home and taken to the woman. Enzo surmised that the Traveler woman was interrogating the young man. The Traveler woman had a gun pointed at the young man, who was frantically waving his arms and screamed something that sounded like "I don't know anything" in Russian.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Damon when he saw that Enzo was about to go outside.

"I'm going to save the day," said a confident Enzo.

Damon gave Enzo a stern look. Damon was in charge here; he wasn't about to let his agent go rogue.

"Damon, you do this kind of crap all the time," said Enzo defensively. In fact, Damon's eagerness to jump into action sometimes caused complications down the road.

"What, exactly, are you planning on doing?" asked an annoyed Damon.

"I'll distract them. You come save me."

"So in other words, _I'm_ going to save the day," said Damon. Damon wasn't too keen on this course of action, but he could see Enzo was going to do it anyway.

"That's why you're the senior agent," said Enzo with a wink as he stepped outside. Damon stayed hidden. He couldn't see, but listened intently.

As Enzo slowly walked toward the Traveler group, three of the Travelers shifted their attention and pointed their firearms at Enzo while one stood ready to aim at any other threats that might materialize. Enzo calmly showed his open palms to signal that he was not holding a weapon.

"Who are you?" asked the woman in charge. She was speaking a dialect of Russian, but Enzo had been trained in basic conversation skills in Russian, Chinese, and Arabic.

"I am the man who killed your friends," replied Enzo in relatively smooth Russian.

The woman was seemingly able to detect a bit of an English accent in Enzo.

"England? Or Australia?" she asked in English that only had a very small hint of a Russian accent.

"Does it matter?" asked Enzo.

"I think no," said the woman. She now pointed her gun at Enzo. Enzo made the somewhat risky decision to slowly walk towards the young man who the Travelers were interrogating.

"This guy has nothing to do with anything," said Enzo. To the Travelers, Enzo was seemingly trying to put himself in a position to perhaps shield the local. In reality Enzo moved to draw their attention in a direction away from where Damon would hopefully be soon approaching from.

The woman reluctantly agreed and yelled at the local to scram. He immediately stumbled away and didn't stop running until he could no longer see the Travelers.

"I'm going to enjoy choking the daylights out of you," said the female leader who one of the followers called Sloane. She smiled as she approached Enzo. "A little sad that you weren't more of a challenge."

Enzo pretended to struggle against the two men who were holding him.

"I've dealt with you black ops people before," said Sloane. "As always, I will come out victorious."

Suddenly, the woman next to Sloane crumpled to the floor. The two men holding Enzo raised their pistols and shifted their attention to scanning the surrounding area for threats. Damon then knocked Sloane to the ground and shot dead the two men holding Enzo. Enzo himself then broke the neck of the third male. Damon pointed his pistol at Sloane and told her not to move.

"Here's a tip," said Damon. "If you intend on killing someone, don't waste time gloating about it."

"Look who's gloating now?" asked Sloane.

"Oh, don't worry. If I had wanted you dead, you'd be dead," said Damon.

Damon wasn't a 100% sure about not executing Sloane. However, he needed some information. No doubt the top leader of the Travelers had gone into hiding with his bodyguards. Standing out in the open in the middle of a park wasn't something one does after several of your men get taken out. Damon's crow wasn't going to be able to locate them. Even though the drone had heat sensors, it wouldn't be able to distinguish between the locals and the Travelers. Damon didn't want to waste time figuring it all out.

"Where did your boss and the rest of your buddies go?" asked Damon with his pistol still pointed at her.

"Why should I tell you anything?" asked Sloane defiantly. "You're just going to kill me anyway."

"You tell me what I need to know, and I'll let you live," said Damon. He hated sounding soft, but information was valuable. "I'm a man of my word."

Sloane stared at Damon for a while. Damon was a cold-blooded killer, but for some reason, she trusted he would hold his end of the bargain. She could also tell that regardless of whether or not she told him where her leader was, Damon would find him sooner or later. There was a determination in his eyes. Sloane only hoped that when Damon found her leader, the Traveler guards would be prepared.

"They are in a large house near the edge of the village," she said. "It's by the river. Made of red brick."

That information helped narrow down the possibilities, but Damon wanted an exact location. While Enzo kept his pistol trained on her, Damon took out his smartphone and put a map of the village on the screen. He asked her to point to the area where the house was.

"Thank you," said Damon after she pointed to the house. It seemed to be much larger than any of the others in the village. It was also relatively isolated from any of the other nearby homes.

"Who are you guys anyway?" asked Damon. "What is your group doing here?"

Sloane gave Damon a brief overview. The leader of the Travelers was a distant cousin of hers named Markos. Centuries ago, Markos' ancestors were wealthy and powerful. However, they were driven away from their homes. Markos returned to reclaim his family's wealth.

Damon tied up Sloane with plastic flexi-cuff restraints.

"Okay, let's roll," said Damon.

"You're just gonna leave her in the middle of the street like this?" asked Enzo.

"What?" said Damon.

* * *

Damon and Enzo made their way to the large mansion where Markos and his men were hiding out. Three armed men were stationed outside of the mansion.

"Leapfrog?" suggested Enzo.

"Yea," confirmed Damon.

Leapfrogging was the typical two-man maneuver that Damon and Enzo employed to move toward an enemy position. Sometimes called "bound and overwatch," one person would move forward while the second person stayed still and covered the first by watching the enemy positions and, if necessary, firing at enemy positions to keep them occupied. Once the first person found a safe place to crouch behind, the roles would be reversed and he would then cover his teammate while the teammate moved forward.

Enzo was the first to bound while Damon provided cover. It worked out that there were a good number of bushes and trees in the mansion's front yard, providing enough cover for Damon to Enzo to move relatively undetected. Once Enzo reached about half-way to the front door of the mansion, he took position between a row of bushes and signaled for Damon to join him while he watched the Travelers.

Damon and Enzo were approaching the mansion at a slight angle and basically followed the curved driveway that led right to the front door. There were two sedans parked near the front door which would give Damon and Enzo some cover. However, Damon and Enzo would have to crouch pretty low in order to remain hidden. Once they reached the rear of the nearest car, it would be close enough for Damon and Enzo to shoot the Traveler guards. They made sure not to actually touch the car, just in case there was some type of sensitive alarm system.

"Tornado?" asked Enzo.

"Yea," said Damon.

"I'll take out the guy with the shades first," said Enzo as he aimed his silenced pistol at the Traveler wearing sunglasses.

Damon nodded. Enzo fired twice at the first target. Damon immediately fired at next closest person and Enzo soon got rid of the third. Damon and Enzo moved quickly but quietly in a half crouch until they got to the front door. Damon prepared to enter from the right side of the doorway while Enzo took the left. Damon placed his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it. The door wasn't locked, as was often the case when guards were posted.

Instead of bounding, Damon and Enzo stuck together while inside the house. Damon took point and Enzo trailed while covering their rear. They walked through the hall without encountering any resistance and then started searching the rooms one by one. Suddenly, the lights in the house shut off. The sun was about an hour from setting, and very little light came in through the windows. Damon and Enzo took out their little flashlights and held them next to their pistols.

Damon and Enzo entered the large dining room. Although it was dark, Damon could feel there were people very close, perhaps waiting to ambush him and Enzo. The lights came on and the two of them were surrounded by 6 Travelers.

With 5 guns pointed at them, Damon and Enzo were ordered to place their pistols on the ground. Although Markos now had the upper hand, he still wanted to talk his way into Damon's good graces. Markos thought that killing Damon and Enzo might be a mistake. Making decisions on an in-the-moment tactical basis often brought negative long-term consequences. In this case, Markos knew that whoever sent Damon and Enzo would send many more if Damon and Enzo were killed. Markos would only kill them as a last resort.

"This isn't what you think it is," said Markos.

"What do I think this is?" asked Damon.

"I can tell by your accent that you are either American or Canadian black ops," said Markos.

"Canadian?" asked Damon, a little surprised and perhaps insulted.

"American, then," said Markos. "We don't intend to antagonize the West. We are no threat to you."

"Your group has been sowing chaos in your wake as you travel from town to town. Tell me why I should allow that to continue?" asked Damon.

"We only seek to re-establish our birthright. Many centuries ago, my people ruled over these parts of Europe. I am the current patriarch of my clan. We will rule once again. The so-called democratically elected officials are a sham. I wish for chaos no more than you do," said Markos.

Damon was amused inside. Who said he didn't crave chaos? A little chaos was entertaining from time to time. However, chaos was also stress-inducing most of the time. Damon was a fan of a carefree life.

"I'm sorry, Markos. You're destabilizing the regional government. I can't allow it. I have my orders," insisted Damon.

"I can be a strong ally to you and your government. Your people promote capitalism. As do I. Your government sent you here to secure the area around your naval base. I can guarantee you an alliance after I ascend to power."

"We _already_ have an alliance," said Damon.

"And what happens when popular opinion shifts? Or someone new gets elected? With me, you'll have a constant."

"People change. Regardless, my government promotes democracy over dictators. I can't allow you take power."

"Then, I guess we have nothing further to discuss," said Markos. He raised his revolver and pointed it at Damon's face. "I'm sorry we couldn't come to a more amicable solution."

Damon smiled. This joker thought he would be able to kill two of the most capable agents on this planet. Damon and Enzo gave each other a quick glance. Enzo quickly glanced to his left, indicating that he would take out the Travelers to his left. Once Enzo made his move, Damon immediately attacked the Travelers to Enzo's right. Both of them moved with lightning speed and dispatched Markos' bodyguards.

Enzo took out his k-bar combat knife and stabbed the first bodyguard through the heart. Enzo then quickly spun around and stabbed the second guard in the throat. Damon was slightly more hands-on. He snapped the neck of the first guard to Enzo's right, and then proceeded to knock the second unconscious with a quick blow to the back of the head.

Markos and the last remaining bodyguard seemed to freeze for a moment, unsure of whether to fight or to run. That split second of indecision spelled their doom, as Enzo took out the last guard while Damon handled Markos.

Damon deftly knocked the small revolver out of Markos' hand and kicked Markos down onto the floor.

"I don't suppose I could bribe you with a treasure chest of gold coins?" asked Damon rhetorically.

Markos screamed and lunged at Damon, who effortlessly pushed Markos back to the ground.

"That's too bad," said Damon. He casually shot Markos twice in the chest. Damon kneeled down near Markos to confirm that he was dead. Markos had blood trickle out of his mouth. There was no pulse when Damon felt Markos' neck.

With Markos dead, Damon deemed the Traveler group to no longer be a threat. Two of Markos' men were on the ground and bleeding, but they would survive. Damon walked up to the man who was slightly bigger.

"Your friend Sloane is tied up at the abandoned car factory in town," said Damon. "You two can pick her up and then return to wherever you came from. Stay there and live long lives. Any of you come back here, you die. Understood?"

The man nodded. The two injured Travelers limped away while Damon and Enzo watched.

"Those idiots will return," said Enzo.

"No they won't," said a confident Damon.

* * *

Damon and Enzo climbed onboard the private jet. Time for a relaxing flight back to America. Damon typed in his credentials into the computer in the passenger cabin. It took a few seconds to establish a secure videolink to Langley.

"Objective accomplished," reported Damon

"Outstanding," said Commander Anderson. "Well done, gentlemen. Come on home."


	2. Chapters 3 & 4

The Vampire Diaries: Thunder & Lightning (Chapters 3 & 4)

By Vincent Chia

* * *

Chapter Three

It had been a little over a month since Damon's last covert mission with Enzo. Damon was starting to get a little bored, but he'd rather have too much downtime as opposed to not enough. His current boss once asked him whether he would be willing to go on assignments that came from private sector clients in addition to the ones tasked by the CIA. Damon declined. Enzo, on the other hand, was more open-minded. He was sometimes given assignments that he could handle by himself while Damon spent his time doing whatever he felt like at the moment.

Right this moment, Damon sat in his grandiose home reading one of the newest vampire-themed teen lit books. The series had proven to be popular with adults as well.

"How can people read this garbage?" thought Damon. He was a slightly bigger fan of the classic gothic novels, but even those were hard to read sometimes. Vampires. What nonsense.

His smartphone vibrated and he was thankful for the diversion. It was Stefan.

"Damon, I need your help with something. Come over quick," said Stefan. Damon could hear the urgency in Stefan's voice.

"Why? What happened?" asked Damon.

"I'll show you when you get here. Come quick."

Damon got into his convertible and sped to Stefan's house.

When Damon arrived at Stefan's house, he saw that Jeremy was also there. Stefan told Damon and Jeremy to take a seat on the living room couch as he connected his laptop computer to the widescreen tv. Stefan then played a video message he received a little over an hour ago. A view of Elena came into focus. She was gagged and restrained to a metal chair.

A voice from behind the camera spoke clearly.

"Dr. Stefan Salvatore of Mystic Landing: as you can see, I have your wife Elena here under guard. You have been the head physician at Ballard Maximum Security Facility for the past year. Fifteen days ago, a prisoner named Philip Augustine was transferred to your facility. I need your help to break him out. You will dose him with a drug that mimics death. You will declare him dead and he will be transferred to the morgue. All you have to do is order the transfer. A couple of my men are in position to free Mr. Augustine."

When Stefan first saw the video, he panicked a great deal. He panicked for Elena's safety, but was even more frightened by the fact that he didn't think he could pull off what was demanded of him. Stage a prisoner escape? There were multiple layers of safeguards against that kind of thing. After thinking about it, he came to the conclusion that he probably _could_ pull it off, and that scared him a little bit too.

Damon looked at Stefan and it seemed Stefan wasn't exactly sure what to do.

"Stefan, you work with federal law enforcement agencies. Call them," said Damon.

"No, no," said Stefan. "I can't alert the authorities." Stefan played the rest of the video. The unidentified voice said that if Stefan involved the authorities, Elena would be killed. The voice also said that he had contacts inside the federal government and that he would know. Stefan had one week to fake Mr. Augustine's death.

Damon himself wasn't entirely sure what to do. On the one hand, carrying out the prison escape would be the straightforward and simplest thing to do. However, Damon was from the school of thought that bullies, kidnappers, blackmailers, and other assorted terrorists should be met with maximum force. Of course, maximum force meant death.

"I'm going to do it," said Stefan reluctantly.

"Call the FBI?" asked Jeremy.

"No. God no," said Stefan. "I'll get this Augustine guy out."

"How do you know they won't kill Elena anyway even after you've freed Augustine?" asked Damon. He was now leaning more towards getting the authorities involved.

"I don't," admitted Stefan. "But this is the safer course of action."

"You can't cave in to these people," insisted Damon.

"This is Elena we're talking about here," said Stefan. "It's not a hypothetical fact pattern on a philosophy exam. If anything ever happened to her…"

As Stefan trailed off, Damon was tempted for a second to make a rebuttal, but decided against it. Instead, he would try to figure this out on his own.

"I gotta run an errand," said Damon. "Be back in a bit."

"Don't do anything stupid," insisted Stefan. "Let me handle this."

"Why did you call me over anyway?" asked Damon, slightly annoyed. He knew that deep down, Stefan wanted his help.

"I just wanted…. I wanted you and Jeremy to know what happened in case this all goes south," said Stefan. "If I get caught, if I fail and me and Elena don't make it. I want you both to know."

Stefan tossed a small memory stick to Damon.

"If it hits the fan, give that to the feds," said Stefan.

Damon nodded and he headed out.

"Where are you going?" asked Stefan.

"Out," said Damon.

"Define 'out.'"

"Stop worrying, little bro," said Damon. He tried to be as reassuring as possible. "You don't want to go to the feds, I'll respect your decision. As stupid as it is."

Damon grabbed his black jacket, went to his car, and drove off.

* * *

"What is it you're looking for?" asked Sheriff Forbes.

"Just traffic cam footage," said Damon.

"That's easy. We only have two traffic cams in the whole damn town," said the sheriff.

Damon combed through the footage to see if he could stop any out-of-towners. Mystic Landing was a small enough place that Damon might be able to make out an unfamiliar vehicle. It wasn't as if Mystic Landing was a tourist attraction. There would be no reason for someone to randomly visit the town. Damon spent a few hours looking through black and white camera footage. Unfortunately, there was nothing he saw in the video feeds that caught his attention.

"What is this about?" asked the sheriff.

"Oh, nothing," said Damon. "A car sideswiped Elena's SUV earlier today. She said she thought it was someone from out of town. She didn't recognize the driver who had sped away."

"Is she okay?"

"Oh, she's fine. Just a little shaken up."

* * *

Damon returned to his car when his phone rang.

"What's up Little Gilbert?" asked Damon.

"He's gone," said Jeremy.

"What?" asked Damon.

"Stefan. He's gone. His motorcycle isn't around either."

"Okay, stay where you are. I'll come over to you."

* * *

"What happened?" asked Damon as he stepped inside Stefan's house.

"I don't know," said Jeremy. "I don't know."

"Walk me through what happened after I left," said Damon.

About half an hour after Damon left for Sheriff Forbes' office, three individuals came knocking. They identified themselves as FBI agents from the Hostage Response Team. Stefan was surprised. He didn't call the FBI. He was also annoyed at Damon, thinking Damon was the one who contacted the FBI.

"There must be some mix-up," said Stefan. "I didn't call the FBI."

"We know," said the man who previously identified himself as Agent Parker. "I'm here on behalf of Philip Augustine."

Stefan's face turned white as a sheet.

"Don't worry," Parker said, trying to reassure him. "Nothing will happen to Elena Salvatore as long as the plan is carried out."

Stefan remained silent. Parker nodded an acknowledgement to Jeremy and then looked back at Stefan.

"You have a good day, Dr. Salvatore," said Parker as he slightly tipped his baseball cap at Stefan. Parker and his two other agents walked back to their back SUV and drove off.

"Did you get a license plate?" Damon asked Jeremy.

"No. Who thinks to do something like that?" he asked defensively.

"How did Stefan react?" asked Damon. "Was he falling apart?"

"You know Stefan, he is always the same. It's hard to read his emotions most of the time. He was little changed after the FBI agents left. He said he wanted some privacy to clear his mind. He went to his bedroom upstairs and I stayed down here. I didn't hear his motorcycle, but I guess he must've rode off."

Damon evaluated the situation for a few minutes. He then noticed that Stefan's notebook computer was still on the dining room table. He walked over to the computer and started typing.

"What are you doing?" asked a curious Jeremy.

"Trying to figure out who sent Stefan the kidnap video," said Damon.

"And then what?"

"I'll deal with it," said Damon. "First things first, I have to find the guy. I guess I shouldn't get in touch with the FBI folks to get this done."

Damon typed for 15 minutes and Jeremy could tell Damon was starting to get annoyed. It got to the point where Damon was within an inch of throwing the computer against the wall.

"I think Bonnie might be able to help," said Jeremy.

"Really?" asked a surprised Damon.

"She works for some cybersecurity company that often consults with the Department of Homeland Security. One of the things they do is trace hacker attacks."

"Well why didn't you say so earlier," said Damon in a half sarcastic tone.

Jeremy just gave him a silent look.

Damon's curiosity was piqued. He never thought of Bonnie as someone who would be involved with the national security apparatus. But then again, it was a brave new world where nothing was ever as it seemed. The warriors of the new millenium didn't always fight with their hands. Well, at least not in hand to hand combat. They used their hands to control joysticks or their fingers to type commands into computers.

Within the hour, Jeremy brought Bonnie to Stefan's house. Along the way, they also picked up Bonnie's colleague Liv. Liv was new to Wicked Cybersecurity, Inc. However, she was one of the most capable cyberanalysts when it came to locator programs.

Damon was a little uneasy about bringing in yet another person, but he wanted to give Bonnie and Liv the benefit of the doubt. Bonnie must've seen that he was a little bit wary.

"You can trust Liv like you trust me," said Bonnie. That didn't make Damon feel that much better.

"Besides," continued Bonnie. "My expertise is anchoring. I prevent sites from being hijacked. Backtrace isn't my field."

* * *

Liv's fingers flew over her keyboard as she tried to help Damon find out who had sent Stefan the ransom e-mail. The sender seemed to have covered his tracks pretty thoroughly.

"Looks like he bounced the signal hundreds of times all over the map."

After a few minutes of furious typing, an excited Liv yelled "Got him!"

Liv traced the e-mail message to a computer located in the Rocky Mountains. It was in a Department of Defense research facility. The computer was connected to a DoD network. Liv was able to determine that the computer account was assigned to a Dr. Max Westfield. She brought up Dr. Westfield's government profile and showed it to Damon.

Damon wasn't sure, but he thought he recognized Westfield. It was possible they crossed paths before, since Westfield was attached to the military.

"Nice work, Goldilocks," said Damon. Being a fan of nicknames, Damon had already used up "Blondie" for Elena's best friend Caroline.

Liv smiled, only because she was successful in backtracing Westfield. She was less enthused by Damon's nickname.

"Can you look up another name for me?" asked Damon.

"Sure," said Liv.

"Philip Augustine," said Damon. "Try both with one L or two."

Liv's fingers typed on the keyboard for two seconds and a long list came up.

"Cross reference with current prisoners in the federal system," said Damon.

Liv typed a quick command and the list narrowed to 2 names. Damon looked at them. The second name was the one he was looking for. He asked Liv to bring up the file.

"Former lieutenant colonel, U.S. Army. Stripped of his rank after court-martial," said Liv.

"Why isn't he held in a military prison?" wondered Damon out loud.

Liv read through the file and then pointed to a section.

"He was discharged from the military 5 years ago, after the court-martial. No prison sentence. He was re-arrested 2 years ago and is currently imprisoned on charges of treason and terrorism. Wait, that's a little strange…." said Liv.

Liv tried a few more commands to bring up the rest of Augustine's file, but she was blocked from access. Her hacking skills just reached a ceiling.

"What was Augustine's MOS?" asked Damon, referring to military occupational specialty.

"Psy Ops," said Liv.

"Great," said Damon sarcastically. "Just great." The guys is psychological warfare were often pretty crazy themselves.

Damon got Liv to e-mail him all the information she had on Augustine, Westfield, and the military base in the Rocky Moutains.

"What are you going to do?" asked Jeremy.

"I'm going into hero mode," said Damon.

"Be careful," said Jeremy. "Don't get killed."

"Don't worry. See ya later, Little Gilbert. Bon-Bon."

Bonnie didn't mind the nickname. Part of her thought Damon was a jerk while another part thought he was a charming rebel. She wondered which impression would win out in the end.

"Thanks, Olivia," said Damon before he left Stefan's house. He whipped out his smartphone and thought about who he should call, if anybody.

* * *

"If it isn't Agent Thunder," said the female pilot who Damon knew as "Rocky." Damon arrived at the private airfield just outside of DC. She seemed to think Damon's convertible was pretty cool. Before he left Stefan's, Damon swept his car for bugs or tracking devices. He also kept an eye out for tails while he was driving. He was fairly certain nobody had followed him.

"Thank you for meeting me," said Damon. He wasn't sure she would. He had barely identified himself over the phone, only saying he was Thunder from Wombat flight a short while back. She remembered him instantly.

"Where's your buddy? The guy with the accent," asked the pilot.

"He won't be joining us. He's on assignment in Southeast Asia somewhere."

"You're going alone?" wondered Rocky, in a tone which suggested she didn't think it was a good idea.

"I can handle it," said Damon defensively.

Damon thought about involving at least one other agent with him, but everyone he trusted was on assignment. There were a few he knew as acquaintances but he didn't want to risk them being connected somehow with Westfield or Augustine. Even if they weren't connected, there was the chance that they would report Damon to his superiors for an unauthorized infiltration of a military base.

Damon hadn't explained exactly why he needed a flight to Colorado. He told Rocky that he was on agency business. When she was about to contact her superiors about her tasking, Damon told her it would be off the books. He also paid her in cash. A stack of it.

The two of them walked over to a small Cessna. It was her personal plane that her dad bought her a few years ago. It was a tiny plane that only fit three people, but it was fast enough for Damon. He didn't want to fly commercial and risk being discovered.

"By the way, my name is Erica," said the pilot. "David, right?"

"Damon. Close though."

"So… You gonna tell me what we're doing?" asked Erica.

"Can't. Classified. It's for your own protection that you don't know," said Damon.

"Bullshit," said Erica. She tried not to be confrontational about it, but she knew Damon wasn't being truthful. "I'm not totally against helping you with something personal, but I can't involve myself with a rogue agent. If this were agency-sanctioned, I would be getting tasking from my superiors."

Damon looked at Erica for a few seconds and tried to evaluate whether he could trust her. He wasn't 100 percent sure, but he was fairly confident and decided to take the risk. He told her that one of his relatives had been kidnapped by someone with ties to the FBI. He couldn't report it to the authorities and he had to handle it himself.

Erica wasn't sure what she expected Damon to say, but it wasn't this. She was sympathetic to Damon's situation and a bit outraged that such a thing could happen. She still wasn't sure it was a good idea for Damon to go alone. In fact, she was positive it was a bad one. However, she had heard the rumors that Damon was one of the best, if not the best, the agency had. And his escapade in Eastern Europe when she first met him convinced her that he could operate quite capably without support. The only catch was, Damon's current destination was an army base, which should be much more of a challenge.

"Well… I guess it's time to saddle up and knock some heads," said Erica as she climbed into the tiny plane.

* * *

Damon felt a little squished in the cockpit. It was much smaller than the cockpit of the business jet that he flew in the first time he flew with Erica. However, that jet belonged to the Agency and he didn't want her to use that one. Damon watched as Erica ran through her pre-flight checklist. This time, he didn't have to double check anything for her.

The plane took off without incident. Once they were in the air, Damon went to studying his tablet while leaving Erica alone to do her thing. Damon looked through all the information Liv was able to send to him. He wished he had more information about the Schell Research Post. He considered using his CRO recon drone once they got close to the base, but thought the base would have appropriate countermeasures for such a device. Even worse, if such a device were detected, it could potentially warn Westfield of an imminent attack. Damon decided he would do some scouting personally.

As they flew over the mid-way point, Erica asked Damon whether there was anyone besides Enzo he would trust to help him on this rescue mission. Damon reiterated that he could handle it himself. When pressed further, he mentioned that on occasion, he and Enzo operated in a 4-man squad. The other two on his team were guys named Matt and Tyler. Neither of them were particularly good assassins, but they were strong role players, especially on defensive missions when the four of them were sent as the first response team before a larger force could arrive. While neither Matt nor Tyler were serum 12144 enhanced, Matt seemed to have an uncanny ability to sustain serious injuries and survive. Matt liked to joke that it was because of his lucky comic book superhero ring that he got from his dad he was a kid.

Erica tried one last time to convince Damon to wait for Enzo or Matt or Tyler to return stateside from their current assignments. Damon insisted that time was of the essence and they couldn't wait. Besides, Damon was plenty capable.

"What about your desk jockey buddies at the CIA? They probably wouldn't be on assignment overseas," said Erica.

"I don't really interact much with the desk jockeys."

"How 'bout this guy?" asked Erica as she handed over a business card.

Damon read the card. In blue font, the name said "Valentyn Xay" and his occupation was "coder extraordinaire" at Velociraptor Robotics Solutions, a CIA front entity. He was really more of a lab rat than a desk jockey.

"The geek from Berlin?" he asked.

"Is he from Berlin? I thought the dude was Asian," said Erica.

"Well, he's from New York somewhere. His father was a Chinese immigrant and his mother was Russian. Agency thought he could blend in reasonably well in either of those places. What makes you think he'd help us?"

"It just seemed like he had a bromance guy crush on you and Enzo back when we were waiting for you guys in that airfield in Europe. He raved about how much he wished he could be a field agent like you guys and crush the evildoers of the world. It was a little bit over the top, but his childlike wonderment was cute."

"Let's keep him out of this for now. Anyway, I've got two geeks back in Virginia in the event we need tech support."

"Okay. Fine," responded Erica in a tone which suggested she wasn't completely fine.

* * *

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Damon. Erica had followed Damon to the car he had rented at the airport.

"Coming with you," said Erica.

"You probably shouldn't."

"Maybe. But I'm your only back-up out here," said Erica.

Damon thought about it for a second and decided to let her tag along. At least, this first phase of his plan shouldn't involve any danger. He was simply going to visit Schell Post and assess how heavily fortified the place was. He was going to use federal agent as a cover. It was his favorite alias. Since the feds often operated in twos, it could be useful to have Erica with him, if only for show. Damon told her what they would be doing and made up a last name for her. He also said to let him do all the talking.

"Don't you think they'll recognize you?" asked Erica.

"Probably not. The soldiers see a guy in a fancy suit and dark sunglasses flash a badge and they don't see anything but an anonymous fed."

Erica wasn't surprised by Damon's confidence in his plan. His confidence seemed to rub off on her. She would normally have badgered Damon to get the local authorities involved. The local sheriff or state troopers. But she went with Damon's plan.

After driving for 45 minutes, Damon and Erica finally reached the semi-remote Schell research facility.

Damon slowed down as he pulled the car up to the guard booth at the entry gate to the base.

"I'm Damon Lee and this is Erica Kingman. We're with the FBI biohazards inspection unit. We're here to do a routine inventory check on some of your volatile bio-medical samples."

Damon pulled out his often-used fake credentials from his pocket and flipped open his badge and ID to show to the guard.

The guard went back into his booth and punched in a few commands at his computer terminal while his partner kept an eye on Damon's car. When the first guard returned, he was apologetic.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't have anything on the schedule about an FBI inspection. Nobody is allowed on base without prior authorization, including civilian law enforcement. I've got strict instructions."

"But, we're federal agents," insisted Erica.

"Yes ma'am. But as I just stated, this base is under top level restrictions. You aren't authorized. I'm sorry. Protocol, you understand?" said the corporal.

"Is Dr. Max Westfield the base commander?" asked Damon. "We need someone for our superiors to straighten out this situation with. It's just standard procedure."

"Dr. Westfield is the head researcher of Lab 9. The base commander is Major General Adam Whitmore."

"Thank you, corporal," said Damon. He put the car in reverse and then drove away once he got back to the main road.

* * *

After driving for ten minutes, Damon pulled over to the side of the road and started taking off his suit and tie. He took two pistols out of his backpack, loaded the bullet cartridges and then cocked the guns. He then strapped on two thigh holsters, one on each thigh, and secured the pistols.

"What are you doing!?" yelled Erica.

"Gonna sneak onto the base," whispered Damon as he took off his white undershirt and switched to a black one. He was now in all black, his favorite look.

"What!?" yelled Erica before she caught herself yelling. It wasn't as if there was anyone around for a mile, but she lowered her voice. "Are you insane?"

"I know what I'm doing. I do this kind of stuff all the time. It's what I'm trained for," said Damon.

"That base if full of soldiers," said a frantic Erica.

"Most of who aren't combat alert," said Damon. "It's a scientific research facility. From the looks of it, all of the buildings except the main building have been abandoned. The site was decommissioned three years ago. It should have been completely shut down, but it looks like a handful of people remained to finish up whatever experiments are taking place. There are forty guys in there, tops. And plus, the scientists aren't an issue. They'll all be in their labs distracted by whatever it is they do. It's only the guards I have to worry about. It'll be easy to avoid them. I did an assessment of their security perimeter and their video surveillance when we were there. I also peeked at the monitors at the guard post. There's a blind spot between the coverage of cameras 7 and 8 in the northwest quadrant. That's my entry point. It won't be a problem."

"You saw all of this while sitting in the car? For the 20 seconds we were parked in front of the guard booth before we had to turn away?"

"Yes."

Erica was stymied.

"And once you're in, how are you going to find Elena? _And_ break her out?" asked Erica, not yelling anymore but still concerned.

"I'll figure it out. I'm good thinking on my feet."

Erica grabbed Damon's arm with her left hand.

"Seriously, don't do this," said Erica. "Call a few of your friends and wait for reinforcements."

"No time," said Damon. "I can't wait on this."

Damon could tell Erica was upset, but he was confident he could pull this off.

When Erica saw that Damon wouldn't yield, she strapped a pistol to her own belt.

"I'm coming with," she said.

"Oh no you're not."

"You let me come with you earlier."

"That was different. We were only taking a look at the base. I knew they wouldn't let us in. If you come in with me now, you'll only slow me down."

"What!?" said an insulted Erica.

In a blink of an eye, Erica watched Damon somehow get to 10 yards away from her. In another second, he was right in front of her again. Was it some sort of illusion?

"I'm much faster than you," said Damon. "I'll explain it some other time. Right now, I'm heading to Schell. You should return to the airport."

"I'm not abandoning you out here," said Erica.

"Then wait for me somewhere. Maybe a motel in town or something."

"How will I know when you've rescued Elena?"

"Here," said Damon. He handed her his small observer drone. "This will light up when I'm ready to go. Meet me at the airport."

* * *

Damon ran to Schell Research Post and arrived in a little over 17 minutes. He could have made it faster, but didn't want to waste too much of his endurance. His abilities were enhanced, but they weren't limitless.

He looked at his watch and estimated he would have about three more hours of darkness before the sun started to rise. He crouched just outside of the base's northwest corner and peered through his high-powered binoculars. As he expected, there were no guards anywhere in sight. The fence would be easy enough to scale.

As he approached the fence, he smelled something strange. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was an unpleasant scent. Damon was thankful that his sense of smell hadn't been enhanced. His hearing and vision had been enhanced to a small degree. Both proved extremely useful.

Damon climbed over the fence with ease and darted over to the nearest building, making sure to zigzag his approach in order to avoid detection by cameras 7 or 8. He kept his back against the outside wall and listened intently for any movement by the soldiers standing guard near the main building. Suddenly, he felt a little queasy. Then, a lot queasy. He fell down to his knees and gasped for air. Then, he blacked out.

* * *

Damon awoke lying face up on the ground. Three rifles were pointed at him while a fourth soldier helped him up to his feet. Damon felt groggy and weak.

"I think it's that FBI guy from earlier," said one of the soldiers.

"Report it to Lieutenant Pierce," said the sergeant. "Let's get him out of here."

The sergeant was about to release Damon after giving him a stern warning to stay away. Next time, Damon would be shot on sight, regardless of whether he was a fed. However, Westfield radioed the guards.

"Bring him in under guard. Now," said Westfield.

"Yes, sir," said the sergeant in his walkie. He was a little reluctant to detain a federal agent, but he had his orders. A guard detail consisting of four soldiers armed with rifles escorted Damon to the main building and then brought him to Max Westfield's office.

"You're dismissed," said Westfield. The escorts walked out of the room, leaving Damon with Westfield and two personal bodyguards in civilian clothing.

Westfield looked younger than Damon had imagined. Westfield hadn't aged at all from his old file photo.

"Damon Salvatore," said Westfield. "So you've come to rescue your sister-in-law?"

"I'm sorry," said Damon. "You must have me confused with someone else. My name is Damon Lee, I'm with the FBI. I'm here to investigate an issue with the inventory of R6O9 experimental vaccines."

"Don't play this game, Damon," said Westfield. "I know exactly who you are."

"So… what happens next?" asked Damon.

"I wait to see what your brother does."

Damon took a few glances at his surroundings and designed a plan of attack. Even in a weakened state, he should easily be able to overtake Westfield and his two bodyguards. The guard to his left seemed to be the more capable soldier. He would have to go down first.

Damon made his move, but was surprised when the bodyguard deflected the blow and then knocked Damon to the ground.

"Feeling a little weak, are we?" asked a smiling Westfield.

Damon shook off the blow and tried to pounce on Westfield, but Damon was easily restrained by Westfield's two bodyguards. Damon couldn't understand what was happening to him. The bodyguards cuffed Damon's hands behind his back.

"You must have known that I have friends in the FBI, including in their biochemical weapons division. Suffice it to say, I keep well informed of any possibility that the FBI would poke around my facility. I suspect that what you didn't know, is that I could somehow manage to find out about your experimental enhancements and have been prepared for them with a unique countermeasure called Verbena. We pumped it into the air surrounding the base a little after your stunt at the guard post raised a red flag. I'll admit that it took a lot of digging to get information on you."

"Experimental enhancements?" asked Damon.

"Like I said, I know exactly who you are," said Westfield. "You aren't exactly in a weakened state. Just what us mere mortals would call normal. Your four-four enhancements have been nullified."

"Isn't that just wonderful," said Damon.

"You can't imagine my surprise when I learned you were a four-four soldier. I thought none of the candidates survived. Turns out there were three of you guys. Fate has a pretty funny way of bringing people together. I was a contributor to the serum 12144 program. The researchers were prevented from knowing any of your names. The higher-ups thought it might create attachment issues if we did. I may have dosed you once. Of course, before we actually dosed any of the candidates, we pre-planned a way to control you. You know, just in case you decided to go rogue. Various psychological agents were considered, but when those were rejected, we switched gears to find a way to simply contain you. It must be a strange feeling to be a regular ol' human being once again."

Damon continued to struggle against his cuffs and chains, but to no avail.

"Take him down to E wing," said Westfield.

Three armed guards in uniform walked Damon out of Westfield's office.

* * *

Damon was escorted to a holding area where animal test subjects were sometimes held. There were no animals there at present and it seemed like the entire wing of the building was abandoned. Damon was taken to a large room with cages sized to accommodate gorillas, or perhaps bears, if anyone ever tested on bears. Luckily, the entire facility had either never been used or thoroughly cleaned out. Unluckily, the cages were strong enough to hold gorillas or bears. With Damon's strength sapped, escaping would be impossible.

Damon was placed in a cell next to Elena. Although she was currently asleep, Damon could see that she had been crying. While Elena feared for her life, a large part of her worried that if things went bad and Westfield killed her, Stefan would blame himself for that and would harm himself.

When Elena awoke, Damon tried to comfort her. Although Elena wasn't outright panicking, Damon could see she was still shaking a little bit and sniffling.

"Elena, come here," said Damon softly.

Their two adjacent cells were only separated by metal bars, and Damon could reach through the gaps to get a hold of Elena's hands. After a minute, Damon lightly bounced her hands on his fingers. It made her smile for a second but she was still crying a little bit. He brought his right hand up to her face to wipe the tears away.

"We'll get out of this," whispered Damon confidently. He held her face for several more seconds and it seemed to calm her. They closed their eyes and pressed their foreheads together through the prison bars, staying silent for the next several minutes.

* * *

The next morning, one of Westfield's lieutenants entered the animal holding section. Damon was shocked how similar to Elena the woman appeared. She walked up to Damon's cell and looked him up and down.

"So _you're_ Westfield's precious alpha," she said.

"Alpha?" asked Damon.

"Well, that's what he calls you now. Years ago, Westfield and his fellow researchers had been told that serum 12144 failed horribly. He thought all one thousand candidates died."

"Technically, that was true. I was clinically dead for about two hours," said Damon.

"Well, look at you now. It must've been magic. In any case, you're the past. I'm the future."

Damon didn't seem to understand what she was saying, so she explained further.

"For the past few years, Westfield has been toying on and off with the idea of reattempting a serum similar to 12144. He didn't understand why the original serum didn't work. But since he learned yesterday about you and the two others, he has been reinvigorated. I'm going to be one of his new candidates. We'll be stronger and better than you ever were," said the elated soldier.

Her walkie beeped and Damon heard static for a second before a voice came through.

"Pierce, Westfield wants to see you in his lab."

"Copy," she said as she walked out of the animal holding section.

* * *

A few hours later, Westfield dropped by with his two bodyguards. Damon saw that Westfield was as excited as a kid in a candy store. Westfield stared at Damon as if he were a painting in an art museum.

"We're so close," said Westfield. One of his bodyguards then sprayed mace into Damon's cell.

"Years ago, when we first developed the counter-agent, we theorized it would remain effective for 72 hours. We'll spray you every 12 hours just in case."

Westfield's walkie beeped.

"Sir, we have a vid-call coming in for you."

"Sergeant, I told you I wasn't to be disturbed."

"Sir, it's coming from the Pentagon. It's General Whitmore."

Westfield sighed.

"Patch it through to the computer terminal in Simian holding."

Damon could see the computer monitor come to life. A middle-aged man in a green uniform came onto the screen. He looked a little irate.

"Westfield! Tell me Stefan Salvatore's wife is _not_ a high level operative with the freakin' CIA. Didn't you check this kind of crap before you put the plan in motion!?"

Westfield was surprisingly calm.

"Not the wife. The brother," said Westfield.

"I'm at the Pentagon for a few days of briefings and everything goes to hell? I thought you covered all the bases. I've got the deputy director of CIA operations demanding the release of his agent. Just kill both the wife and the brother. I'll find some way to clean this up and we'll figure out another way to get Augustine."

"Adam," said Westfield. "We have an opportunity here. But I need Salvatore's brother alive."

"Who is this guy?" asked Whitmore. "And why didn't we know he was CIA?"

"The spooks are better at their covers than we thought," said Westfield. "I had to cash in chips with three separate generals and an NSA official to get information on him. Damon Salvatore was a candidate in the 12144 serum experiments. He was a survivor."

"Nobody survived those experiments. I read the reports."

"Yea, well somebody seriously screwed up. Damon Salvatore not only survived, but came out enhanced. He and one other. A third candidate survived, but with debilitating side effects."

"So a 0.3% survival rate," said Whitmore, contemplating what Westfield just said.

"We can do better. I can figure this out," said Westfield.

Whitmore thought about it for a few seconds.

"I can stall the CIA for 24 hours. After that, get rid of them both and make the bodies disappear. I want deniability here," said Whitmore.

"I need more time than that," said Westfield. "We can move them to a more secure location in Alaska before the CIA comes knocking."

"What makes you think they won't find you in Alaska?"

"It will buy us a little bit more time."

"Fine, do it," said Whitmore. "If you screw this up, I will personally beat your face in."

The screen blinked off and a furious Westfield stomped out of E wing.

* * *

Nighttime arrived and Damon was starving. He couldn't remember ever being this hungry. The funny thing was: he just ate two full meals. He even ate part of Elena's dessert.

Lieutenant Pierce walked into the room, smirking at Elena.

"It looks like Stefan hasn't made his move to free Augustine yet," said Pierce. "I guess he needs to be properly motivated."

Pierce unsheathed a shiny knife and twirled it in her fingers.

"Maybe we should send him an ear or something," said Pierce while chuckling maniacally.

"Leave her alone," said Damon with gritted teeth.

Pierce smiled and playfully took one giant step over to be in front of Damon's cell.

"What are you going to do about it, alpha boy?"

With surprising speed, Damon reached through the bars of his cell, grabbed Pierce's uniform and yanked her towards him, slamming her face into the metal bars. She was able to free herself from Damon's grasp and she touched her nose, which was trickling a little blood. She smiled.

"Let's have a little fun," said Pierce. "Open his cage."

"Ma'am?" asked her aide Nadia.

"Do it."

Her aide unlocked Damon's cell. Pierce handed Nadia her gun and took Nadia's baton. She went into Damon's cell and started a fierce attack.

"Westfield wants you alive, but he didn't say I couldn't beat the bejeezus out of you."

With Damon on the ground, she repeatedly swung the baton at his torso. She then stood up and looked down at her defeated opponent.

Damon swung his leg across the floor and Pierce came crashing down. He then grabbed Pierce's baton and started choking her against the ground.

"I don't need enhanced strength to deal with you, psycho," whispered Damon.

Nadia took out a taser and zapped Damon for a second. With Damon immobilized, Pierce started punching him in the gut as Westfield walked in on the scene.

"What the hell is going on?" yelled Westfield.

Westfield's bodyguard pulled Pierce and Damon off of each other. Pierce started straightening her uniform and just walked away.

Damon layed on the ground wondering what had happened. He had been savagely beaten, but he wasn't bleeding. He felt almost no pain. Maybe he was just numb. He was still sooo hungry.

Elena reached out through the bars and clutched Damon's shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked with tears in her eyes.

"I'll be okay," said Damon. He forced a smile.

* * *

Damon and Elena spent half the night awake mostly in silence just holding each other through the metal bars. Damon was still confident that things would be okay. His confidence made Elena feel a little bit better. Damon didn't tell Elena, but he could feel a little bit of his enhanced strength coming back. Westfield would soon rue the day he decided to mess with the Salvatores. Damon and Elena drifted off to sleep with the sides of their heads leaning on each other.

Damon awoke sometime before noon.

Damon struggled against his cuffs, but he could sense that it would only be a matter of minutes before he could break them. He was regaining his strength. Damon's body was developing a tolerance for Westfield's counter-agent. With every passing minute, a tiny bit of Damon's strength was returning. The question now was whether he would wait until he returned to full strength before he made a move. Timing was important; he wanted to be as strong as possible, but he didn't know when Westfield or his men would return to E wing.

Several minutes later, one of the soldiers brought food for Damon and Elena.

"Eat up," he said. "We head out in half an hour."

"Head out?" asked Damon.

"Yea. I think Westfield is moving you guys. I don't think he's going to execute you both, but Westfield has been growing more and more unpredictable lately. I'm sorry about you guys."

Damon sensed the young soldier was capable of being turned. Maybe he would help.

"Corporal," said Damon. "Do you know what Westfield is doing here?"

"Not exactly, but I can tell it's bs that you both are threats to national security. At least her. I've got my orders though."

"I'm actually a federal agent. Westfield is committing treason. You have to help Elena get free," said Damon.

"Unfortunately for you," said the young corporal. "Whitmore bought me off. Everyone has a price."

Damon could tell there was some regret in the young soldier's voice.

"You won't kill us. I can tell," said Damon.

"Maybe not," said the corporal. "But I ain't gonna stop it either."

The corporal walked away after leaving the food trays with Damon and Elena.

* * *

Damon finished his meal but he was still quite hungry. He concluded that the best time to attempt a jailbreak would be when he and Elena were being transported off the base, most likely to a waiting airplane to take them to Alaska. He told Elena to be prepared.

Before any of the soldiers returned, Damon heard two gunshots ring off in the distance. Then, there was complete silence for half a minute.

Suddenly, all hell seemed to have broken loose. The noise of automatic rifle fire seemingly came from multiple locations. Damon estimated that at least seven people were firing non-stop. The lights blinked a couple of times, and then went dark for good. All of the electronic devices around the room were also shut down. Some force just shut down all the power in the base, mostly likely including all of the defensive systems.

Deciding that now was the time to escape, he broke his handcuffs and then tried his best to either bend the bars or break the lock outright. He wasn't having much luck in the beginning, but sensed it would only be a matter of time.

Westfield entered with his two bodyguards.

"You," said Westfield. "You did this." Westfield was furious. He wanted to shoot Damon in the head right then and there, but he couldn't destroy his own creation. Damon was his alpha prototype.

"You were going to have me killed, Westfield," said Damon.

"No!" insisted Westfield. "Don't you see? I would never have allowed that. Whitmore's a fool. Both him and Augustine. They wanted to build cyborgs. Part man, part machine. I always knew that my enhanced rippers were the way to go. The rippers are the next generation of 12144. Think of all the soldiers' lives we'll save if they had enhanced abilities on the battlefields."

"And how many of the candidates will die in your experiments?" asked Damon.

"That's the price of science! The march toward progress requires sacrifices."

"You're insane, Westfield."

"Says the person who benefited the most from the trials. I helped make you!"

"Sir!" said Westfield's right hand man. "We've got to go. They're closing in from at least three directions."

Two armed men dressed in all black entered the room as Westfield and his men left through the side exit into an auxiliary hallway.

"Enzo, what are you doing here?" wondered Damon.

"The flying squirrel and the gadget geek got in touch with the deputy director. What were you thinking coming here alone? And getting caught to boot!"

"I thought I could handle it. How was I supposed to know Westfield practically invented us?"

"What?"

"Oh yea, he was one of the creators of the serum."

Enzo freed Damon from the cage and handed him a pistol.

"Stay here," said Damon. "I'm going to get that son-of-a-bitch Westfield."

Damon ran through half of E wing before he finally caught up with Westfield. He fired three quick shots, hitting one of Westfield's bodyguards in the arm and leg.

To Damon's surprise, Enzo and Matt soon ran up right next to him and joined the fray.

"I told you to stay with Elena!" said Damon.

"She'll be fine. Nobody is back that way. All the action is here."

Damon was glad for the backup, but worried something horribly wrong might happen with Elena.

Westfield and his remaining bodyguard pointed their pistols at Damon and his two friends. Each side held their fire for the time being. Damon slowly walked toward Westfield.

"You know doc, only one of us is going to make it out of this alive. Spoiler alert: it's going to be me," said Damon.

As if through telepathic communication, Damon and Enzo simultaneously fired a shot each at Westfield and the remaining bodyguard, hitting each in the hand that was holding their weapon. Westfield struggled with the pain of being shot.

Before Damon could move in for the kill, a dozen armed soldiers came running down the other side of the hallway and started firing at Damon and his friends. Damon returned fire at the incoming soldiers, and took one last shot at Westfield before retreating with Enzo and Matt. Westfield seemed to be bleeding from a head wound, but was still alive as four soldiers formed a diamond around him.

In the hallway, three of the soldiers knelt down on one knee while keeping their rifles pointed down the hallway at Damon's general direction. Another six soldiers kept their rifles aimed forward while standing. The odds weren't great, but Damon, Matt, and Enzo had been victorious in tougher situations. Damon's crew had taken cover in the nearest lab.

"Shoot them," said Westfield.

Damon's crew returned fire immediately. Although they should have been outgunned, Damon soon saw that Westfield's soldiers were firing to cover their retreat.

"They're not going to get very far," said a confident Enzo. He didn't even bother to fire his pistol anymore. Damon went to the nearest window to see what was happening. Westfield and his soldiers had planned to get into their vehicles and drive off, but were now surrounded by other soldiers ordering Westfield's men to lay down their weapons.

Army Rangers and Navy SEALs had arrived on scene soon after Enzo and Matt started they assault. Enzo and Matt had only been a distraction to flush Westfield out into the parking lot. One of Damon's former colleagues was now the second-in-command of an army Nightstalkers battalion. Once the Pentagon got wind of Westfield's plans to break out Augustine and continue various psy ops programs which were previously terminated by the Senate, the Army chief of staff decided to send in special ops and take care of the situation in-house. No need to get the FBI or CIA involved.

Damon got back to the Simian holding cells to find Elena with a gun pointed at Pierce. Erica and Xay were trying to calm Elena down.

Damon immediately rushed over to Elena. She was trembling a little bit, but did not allow Damon to get too close.

"She's the one who kidnapped me from Mystic Landing," said Elena. "And she beat you senseless in the cage. She should die."

"Yea, she should," said Damon softly. "But don't do this. You're better than her. If you kill her, you'll have nightmares about it for the rest of your life."

Elena turned to Damon and cried into his shoulder. Damon gently grabbed the pistol from her hands and then handed it to Erica.

"Shhhhh," said Damon as he brushed her hair with his hand and held her. "Everything's going to be okay."

* * *

Damon met up with everyone just outside the main building.

"Most of Westfield's men survived our incursion," said Major Saltz, Damon's friend from the Nightstalkers unit. Saltz had ordered his men to use less-than-lethal force when dealing with Westfield's soldiers.

"Rick, thanks for your help," said Damon.

"Come on," said Rick. "We were best friends when you served. You should've called me when you first heard Elena was kidnapped. I have your back. Always."

Rick put his arm around Damon and smiled.

"I guess I thought I could handle this alone," said Damon. That was the truth. However, a small part of Damon's hesitance to contact Rick in the first place was that he thought Rick might have some loyalty to his fellow Army officers. After all, the fact that Rick ordered his men not to use lethal force against Westfield confirmed to Damon that Rick would not have gone all out against Westfield. Not as much as say, Enzo. Damon also had a new piece of information to give to Rick.

"Hey Rick, do you know a general named Whitmore?" asked Damon.

"I know his son, Aaron," said Rick. "He's a good soldier. A fine officer. Why?"

"Papa Whitmore was behind this thing. He wanted Augustine for some reason."

Rick was shocked, but he promised Damon he would report it to his superiors.

* * *

Chapter 4

Major Saltz and his men remained at Schell Post to secure Westfield's research. It appeared that Whitmore and Westfield had planned experiments to create an army of cyborgs. The experiments hadn't started yet, since Augustine had some of the necessary knowledge base.

The CIA sent a private jet to take Damon, Elena, Enzo, Matt and Xay back home. Damon felt a little bad leaving Erica to fly her tiny plane back all by herself.

"No worries," said Erica. "You should fly back with Elena. Make sure she's okay."

"Thanks," said Damon as he started walking to the bigger jet. He watched Valentyn Xay run towards Erica and wave to get her attention.

"Hey," said Xay. "I'll fly with you."

"Don't you wanna hang with the action heroes?" asked Erica.

"Nah. I've had enough action to last me a good couple of years," he said cheerily.

* * *

"You feeling better?" asked Damon. The jet had just taken off. Damon and Elena were in the front of the luxurious passenger cabin while Enzo and Matt stayed toward the rear.

"A little bit," said Elena. She was still processing everything that happened in the past few days.

"Here, these will make you feel better. Stronger," said Damon. He brought out two syringes from his small backpack. Damon told her they were typical fluids that hospitals might give to patients who suffered from exhaustion.

"Damon…." said Elena. "I love you."

Damon smiled.

"I love you too," he said. "You're an awesome sister-in-law."

"No," said Elena weakly as she brushed him off. "I mean…."

She told him how she developed feelings for him while they were imprisoned by Westfield and his men. Damon told her it was just the confusion and stress of the ordeal.

Damon proceeded to inject Elena with the first syringe. It was a concoction the agency called "forget." It would erase Elena's memory for the past few hours, or up to a week depending on the dosage. The original purpose of injecting her with the drug was to make her forget about whatever she overheard about Damon being a CIA superhuman experiment. Now, there was an added benefit of making her forget her time in the cages, when she may have developed feelings for Damon.

After a minute, Damon injected Elena with the second syringe, a concoction the agency called "compel." They were very straightforward with their names. The second drug kept the patient in a highly suggestible state, similar to hypnosis. Damon told Elena to continue to live her happy life with Stefan. He also suggested that although she cared for Damon as a brother, his "too cool to care" attitude towards the world often irked her and she could barely tolerate it.

After Elena fell asleep in the big comfy leather chair, Enzo came up to talk to Damon.

"Everything okay?" asked Enzo.

"As okay as can be," said Damon. Enzo could tell by the way Damon looked at Elena that he cared for her romantically.

"So…. sorry for this distraction, mate," said Enzo. "But if you're up for some more action packed excitement, the station chief in Germany might have something for us."

Part of Damon wanted to get some rest, but the other part knew that keeping busy would distract him from the past week's events.

"What is it?" asked Damon.

"This guy," said Enzo as he showed Damon an image on his tablet. "His name is Wolfgang Klaus. He's apparently the leader of a group called the Wolfpack. Your typical dangerous individual. Murder, mayhem, that sort of thing."

"You mean, like us?" commented Damon.

"Well….. you know what they say: sometimes, we're sent into the storm. Other times, we _are_ the storm."

"Tell the chief I'm good to go," said Damon. He sounded a little tired, but Enzo knew he would be 100% in no time. Enzo made his way back to his seat.

"Hey Matt, you up for some more adventure?" Damon heard Enzo excitedly say.

Damon thought about his life. He enjoyed it a lot, but what made him different from the people he was sent to contain. Markos, Westfield, Klaus. Was he just the same as them?

A groggy Elena reached out and held onto his hand. She remained asleep, but held on tightly.

* * *

Damon returned to his normal life with a bit of a shudder. He was sitting on a plushy couch. Markos sat in a chair across from Damon.

"How long was I out?" asked Damon.

"About half an hour," said Markos. "As you can see, I am a man of my word. I didn't kill you."

Damon nodded. He wasn't sure exactly why the Travelers needed Stefan and Elena, but he didn't completely trust them. For now, he'd be keeping an eye out for trouble.

THE END?


End file.
